


This Might Be Perfect (This Might Hurt)

by shedreamedofdragons



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Death, Cheating, F/M, Major Character Injury, Not Cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shedreamedofdragons/pseuds/shedreamedofdragons
Summary: Veronica and Jughead run into each other other in New York.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Jughead Jones/Original Female Character(s), Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge, Veronica Lodge/Original Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	This Might Be Perfect (This Might Hurt)

Setting the stage:

About Town with a Boy

Fall 2021

There were very few things Veronica Lodge loved more than Autumn in New York. Because she couldn’t help herself, Veronica counted off those things in her head.

  1. Her parents.
  2. Her Hermès Collection.
  3. Summer’s in The Hampton’s. 



That was the short list.

Veronica stepped out of her favorite coffee shop, a London Fog in her right hand and a vintage LV Speedy 25 bag in her left. It had rained the night before so she forewent her usual heels for reasonable Burberry wellies that matched her artfully draped scarf.

Drivers blared their horns, strangers with cell phones plastered to their ears bustled past her, bumping and nudging indiscriminately. She had to avoid stepping in a pile of something putrid on the sidewalk and dodge a homeless man’s advance since her hands were too full to pull out a few loose bills.

Smiling at the sights and sounds of New York, she took a sip of her earl grey latte and made her way to her next destination, which was a weekly tradition of lunch with her mom.

After the announcement of her parents impending divorce, Hermione retreated to New York to reassess her life and find herself again. That left Hiram behind in Riverdale to do... well, that wasn’t Veronica’s problem or concern any longer.

For years she’d fought a never ending battle with her father, a literal war of the wills. It had left her exhausted and frankly, ready to get from under his thumb.

Leaving Riverdale behind was the best thing she’d done in years and while she had some good memories of the friends she’d made, her few years there were mostly dampened by violence and heartbreak.

Graduation marked a new beginning for her and what better place to start over than where she began; New York City?

On cue the city spoke and a guy with a large briefcase, bumped into her, knocking her into the direct path of another guy. She ran right into his chest, lost her footing in the impact and bedpan a backward descent. She cringed and braced for an inevitable fall onto the grimy sidewalk. Her thoughts went not to her safety but her cute leather jacket that would no doubt be ruined. She’d also probably also catch something incurable in the process, but her jacket was just so cute!

The sudden dip in her stomach followed by the smack on the concrete never came though. Instead her upper arms were gripped by two large hands and she was pulled forward, away from the momentum her body originally went.

It took a few seconds to realize that she wasn’t going to fall and a second more to unclench her eyes. Her savior was wearing grey flannel and a leather jacket. She looked up at him and when she did, her eyes clamped back shut in shock.

 _You have got to be kidding me_.

“Veronica?” He sounded as surprised as she felt.

Veronica wrenched her eyes open again. “Jughead?” The disbelief in her own response was clear.

He smiled down at her, just a slight lifting at the corner of his mouth. “As I live and breathe.”

Veronica’s mouth opened, closed and opened again, but strangely no words came out. It was just ridiculously odd encountering someone that she was sure she’d only see again at their ten year class reunion, in her city - because New York was _her_ city.

So many questions came to mind, but none of them could form on her tongue.

“Knowing you, there’s a million and one questions swirling around in that pretty head of yours. I can explain.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed significantly. Not only was the blast from her not so distant past taking up space in her city, he was being annoyingly casual about it. And did he just call her _pretty_? Who was he and what had he done with the real Jughead?

They kept getting jostled around and a couple of explicative’s were hurled toward them, cursing the pair for being in the way.

Jughead released his grip on her arms and ran a hand through his inky, black hair. “Can we, walk, talk? I know a place.”

As if things couldn’t get even more bizarre, they did. Exactly how long had he been in New York to “know a place” and why was his bare existence bothering her so much?

Her growing annoyance sparked her brain and it finally began functioning with her mouth again. “I actually have a date,” she replied nonchalantly.

Was it her imagination or did Jughead look disappointed?

“Oh,” he said flatly. “Maybe some other time.”

The wind whipped Veronica’s hair across her face and, with her hands full, she had to toss her head a bit to move it from her eyes. “Yeah, some other time. You do have the same number?”

He smiled again and it disarmed her. She wasn’t used to seeing his face move in such a way. “I do. You?”

Damn her for smiling back. “I do.”

“Good. Talk to you later then?”

“Right, later.”

They awkwardly shuffled around each other to return on the paths they’d been headed before the literal run-in. Veronica wasn’t five steps away before a niggling intrigue got the better of her and she spun on her heel.

“Wait! Jughead!” She spotted his leather clad back in the crowd of moving pedestrians and hastened her pace. “Jughead!”

He turned back. “Hey,” he greeted curiously once she caught up.

Veronica ignored his questioning stare. “You said you know a place? Let’s go.”

:::

Veronica knew New York. She was born in the city, raised in the city, schooled in the city. She did everything from partying with her Upper East Side crew to “slumming” it in Brooklyn with her artsy friends. She knew the subway, though she preferred a town car. She knew the Burroughs, the best restaurants, where to go to score a good high, and where to find the best vintage pieces. She knew New York inside and out.

This is what she kept telling herself as she wordlessly followed Jughead as they weaved and maneuvered through the streets of New York. She marveled at how well he blended with the people, how he moved with an ease that no tourist could have. This Riverdale towny walked the streets of New York like he belonged here. It made her wonder just how long ago he’d arrived.

Veronica stared at Jughead, accessing, as they waited at a crosswalk. If someone would have told her she’d run into an old friend she wouldn’t have been surprised, if they had said that “old friend” would be Jughead, she would have laughed her head off. But here he was, standing beside her on the corner of a busy intersection in lower Manhattan.

He seemed to sense her stare and looked toward her. Caught, Veronica turned away and tossed her mostly unfinished tea latte into a recycle bin, freeing her chilled fingers to be stuffed into the fur lined pocked of her jacket.

The light changed and they crossed to the other side of the street. She was familiar with the area, it housed an array of tattoo parlors, cigar shops, and counterfeit storefronts where a person could go and purchase a bag that looked just like her vintage for less than a quarter of the price and no one would be the wiser.

She spotted a monogram Yves Saint Laurent clutch with a twenty-five dollar price tag dangling from it and was considering stopping in for a decent knock-off, when Jughead looked back at her.

“Veronica Lodge, contemplating a counterfeit bag? I have seen it all.”

“Oh shut up, and stop walking so fast, I don’t like having to jog to keep up with you.”

He grinned. “And there she is, I was wondering when the Veronica Lodge I knew was going to come out and play.”

They had begun walking again, this time at a more decently human pace.

“I was just surprised to see you here, that’s all. I thought I was hallucinating from lack of sustenance.”

“That’s right, you were on your way to a date.” His arm dropped behind her, hand resting on her shoulder as he guided them into an alleyway. “Not to worry, I’ll have you full soon enough.”

Veronica stiffened at the unusual contact from him and at the smelly alley they were walking down. “You wouldn’t happen to be leading me to my death, would you?” She asked, only half kidding. Where the hell was he taking her?

They came to a stop at a door with a small sealed off window. “Don’t tempt me,” he said, so close that she felt his breath move across the top of her head. He dropped his hand from her shoulder, releasing her and knocked on the peeling, painted door.

The two stood together in silence for a moment before the shuttered window slid open. A pair of murky green eyes were revealed, fierce and then friendly when they spotted Jughead.

The shutter slid back into place and the door opened. “Thought you’d be gone all day,” the man greeted. He was tall and burly, with a thick auburn beard.

“Ran into a friend,” Jughead said, motioning for Veronica to go inside.

She hesitated and he rolled his eyes. “It’s cool, Veronica. I promise.”

“On Jellybean?” Veronica heard herself asking before she could think it through.

He rocked back on his heels. “Do you seriously think I would hurt you?”

Did she? Not really, not the Jughead she knew in Riverdale. But this Jughead was different in a way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It made her curious, but mostly cautious.

At her continued silence he sighed. “On Jellybean,” he conceded.

Veronica nodded, feeling a little assuaged, and stepped inside past the burly man standing sentinel pretending not to hear their exchange.

Inside was a contradiction to the outside. The space was a new-age modern restaurant with polished concrete floors, contemporary lighting, sleek booths and and minimalist tables. It was a pizza eatery judging by the warm, inviting scents of fresh dough, cheese and meat. Veronica’s stomach picked that second to turn on her and growled obnoxiously loud.

Jughead shot her a look. “Hungry?”

“Shut it.”

He chuckled as they took a booth away from other diners. It was warm inside so Veronica shimmied out of her jacket, laying it to the side along with her purse and scarf. When she looked up from arranging her belongings, piercing blue eyes were staring intently at her.

Veronica felt a blush creep up her neck, she ducked her head, tucking a long length of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. She couldn’t think of a time where she’d been under the gaze of Jughead with anything in his eyes besides judgement.

They had been friend adjacent. Their significant others were besties, therefore making them interact with far more regularity than they would have under normal circumstances. Born from that was a sort of grudging acceptance of each other, but true friendship? She didn’t think so.

Her phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. She fished through her bag and found it. “Mamacita” was the caller. _Crap_. She totally forgot to tell her mom she wasn’t going to make it.

“ _Hola?”_

_“Si, bueno. Lo siento. Se encontro con un amigo.”_

_“La proxima seamana. Promesa.”_

_“Si, si...Adios.”_

She dropped her phone back into her bag. “I’m sorry.” She said to Jughead.

He shrugged, “It’s fine. How is Mrs. Lodge?”

Veronica’s smile was tight as she met his eyes. “ _Ms_. Gomez now. And she’s well, thanks for asking.”

“Ms. Gomez? Your parents divorced?”

“Yes, right after graduation. I guess they figured that the charade could end now that I wasn’t going to be around to witness it.

“Sorry.”

Veronica felt the sincerity in that single word and recalled that his own parents had a nasty split. “It’s fine. They’re better off apart.”

He nodded and a flop of dark hair fell across his brow. “Some people are.”

She forced her eyes away from that lank of hair, and how dashing it made him appear. So far neither had outright mentioned Archie or Betty. Subtle allusions to them was all.

“I get the distinct impression that you’re not referring to our parents.”

“How’d you guess?” He flashed a smile, only adding to the whole raffish thing he had going on.

Veronica could hardly believe she was associating words of attraction with Jughead. She needed food. “So how is the pizza here?”

“Amazing.”

Her brows rose a fraction. “It must be good to get your seal of approval.”

At that moment a cute brunette approached with her pad and pencil. “Hi Forsythe.”

Veronica’s eyes snapped to Jughead. _Forsythe_?

“Hi Mindy,” he said, avoiding Veronica’s shocked stare. “This is Veronica, a friend from High School. We just ran into each other. It’s been, how long?” Blue eyes swept to her.

Veronica was still stuck at Forsythe. She forced her eyes away from Jughead’s and up to Mindy. She had pretty brown eyes that stared down at Veronica with a little venom. “Um, a year and some change, I think.”

“That’s nice,” Mindy said, not sounding impressed. She turned her attention back to Jughead. “The usual?” She asked with familiarity.

“Yes and Veronica will have...” he squinted at her in study. “The number 4 medium, and waters for us both. Thank you, Mindy.”

“Coming right up,” Mindy said and Veronica almost laughed, recalling the lingo from her waitressing days at Pop’s, but the bite of Jughead ordering for her was stinging too much for her to show outward levity.

“And what exactly did you order for me, _Forsythe_?”

“Ouch.” He grimaced. “I ordered something I think you will like.”

Veronica wanted to interrogate him on not only the assumption he took by ordering for her but also on his new identity. She tamped down on the urge. If he wanted to tell her, he would. And she of all people understood the need to reinvent one’s self.

They were quiet until Mindy returned with two tall iced waters with environmentally friendly paper straws.

“I hate paper straws,” Veronica whined once Mindy was out of earshot. “They get all mushy and pulpy after a few sips. Someone should outlaw them.”

“You’re such a snob,” Jughead remarked. She would have been offended if not the obvious humor in his eyes.

“Takes one to know one,” she said lightheartedly. “So... how long have you been in New York?”

“A little less than a year.”

“You didn’t reach out?”

“We were never really those kind of friends. It would have been weird.”

She was thoughtful a moment, there was no use in arguing that point. “You’re right. The only way we would be sitting down together was if we ran into each other the way we did today.”

“Exactly.” Was his gaze always so penetrating? Maybe she never noticed because it had never been leveled on her so intently before.

She fiddled with the ring on her right ring finger, a nervous habit she picked up sometime within the past year.

“Are you still at Barnard?” He asked.

“Yes, studying Art History. What about you, are you in school?”

“Just started at New York University, enrolled in the Creative Writing Program.”

“That’s great!” Veronica said, her voice was an octave higher than she would have preferred, but she was genuinely proud of him. “How did you end up in NYC?” She gave a silent cheer for how casually she posed the question.

He took a sip of his water. “Long story,” he said, not making eye contact. “Another time?”

His avoidance only made her more intrigued. But she was partially mollified by his suggestion of another time. She took it to mean that he might want to meet up again and she wasn’t against getting to know the “New York”Jughead. This Jughead had grown out of his perpetual state of awkward in the “year and some change” since they last saw each other. This Jughead was assured, comfortable in his skin, he actually smiled, and that made him attractive to her in a way that she never would have dreamed.

Veronica realized she had been openly observing him and that he was letting her. She wondered if the New York Jughead was used to girls ogling him? It would have never happened in Riverdale, unless your name was Betty Cooper, but in this city, there would be no lack of women fawning over Jughead Jones.

He’d lost the beanie and the grunge and had adopted a grownup version of his ascetic. The flannel was now donned, not tied around his waist, his leather jacket didn’t have a serpent emblazoned on the back and was a stylish men’s cut. His jeans weren’t faded and shredded, they fit his slender form well. The shoes, well they were the same Chuck Taylor’s, but they were clean.

He definitely gave off a Brooklyn hipster vibe that all the chicks seemed to dig these days.

“You’re different.” Jughead’s sudden assessment of her halted Veronica’s perusal of him.

Veronica swirled her paper straw in her water glass then took a sip and tried not to grimace at the already softening lip of her straw. It was amazing that someone who had changed as much as he had, would say that. Nonetheless, she was intrigued. “Different how?”

Before he could answer, two pizza dishes were set down in front of them. Jughead’s was loaded with meat and cheese, Veronica didn’t spy one veggie in the mix. Her’s was a size smaller than his, topped with prosciutto, arugula, drizzled with olive oil and finished with fresh Parmesan.

Veronica’s mouth watered.

“Can I get you anything else?” Mindy inquired to Jughead alone, pointedly avoiding Veronica.

Jughead’s eyes were on Veronica though, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re good, Mindy, thank you.”

Because she wasn’t one to easily concede, Veronica glared at Jughead and picked up a slice of her pizza. She bit into it and her eyes closed against her will. It tasted amazing. She opened her eyes, chewing, savoring, before taking another bite and another quickly after.

“So, did I do good?” He asked, picking up his first slice.

Veronica’s mouth was full of deliciousness so she only nodded and moaned a very pleased: “Uhh-huh.”

:::

“You have to admit that the paper straw was a total bust.” Veronica waited until they were out of the alley and back on the main sidewalk before demanding his concession.

Jughead chuckled. “First, you have to admit that you want to stop by the knock-off shop.”

Veronica gasped. Her face heated up embarrassingly. She had definitely been considering retracing their path another day to take a perusal around that very shop. She’d never purchased a counterfeit bag before but for some reason, a small rebellion rose up inside of her, making her want to now.

They were quickly approaching the shop and he was staring down at her with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes eyes.

“I only wanted to for research purposes!” She declared.

“Ha! You’re still easy to read, Veronica Lodge.”

The comment made her step stutter. Jughead kept going though as if he didn’t just make such a loaded statement. He took her upper arm in his hand and pulled her along. She shrugged out of his hold, standing stubbornly in place.

“Admit the paper straw is stupid.”

His lips compressed into a line, he jerked a hand through the flop of hair that seemed to love to dangle at his brow. “I admit that paper straws are stupid. Like who the hell came up with such a dumb idea? The bozo totally blanked on the fact that moisture and paper don’t mix and made something that not only gets submerged in liquid at one end but ends up in someones mouth at the other.”

Veronica was slightly taken about by his impassioned words. It had been a while since she’d experienced a righteous Jughead Jones rant. It was the first thing he’d said since she ran into him that felt one hundred percent Jughead. There was no mystery in his words, no subterfuge. She liked this Jughead best.

Veronica took his arm. “Alight, Snobby McSnoberson,” she said, barely containing her smile. “I’m ready to hit up this counterfeit store.”

:::

_Luxury & Designer Goods_ was the name of the store that sold replicas and boosted material for cheap. It smelled of plastic, mold and mothballs. The shelves and racks were crammed with merchandise.

Jughead roamed the crowded isles with no real intention of buying anything, he was here purely for Veronica. As soon as they’d entered, she’d zeroed in on a bag and had been analyzing it ever since. She turned it this way and that, her dainty but prodding fingers dug into the bag, ran along the stitchings and caressed the outside.

While Veronica inspected the bag with an admirable precision, Jughead admired her.

Her hair was longer, like she hadn’t cut it since they graduated. It fell down the middle of her back in a stream of ebony. Even though it was perfectly coifed and never in the way, every now and then, Veronica would tuck a not-so-errant lock behind her ear.

Veronica wasn’t wearing the five inch heels he was used to seeing her in so when she’d bumped into him, he was shocked by just how petite she was not only in height, but in his hands. Jughead had always been cognizant of Veronica’s short stature, but since she could simply walk into a space and command all attention, she had never appeared small to him. Most of the time she had come off annoyingly larger than life. Her impulsive, take charge, attitude had mostly kept them at odds and admittedly, he’d always ignored her presence as much as he could up until he couldn’t.

And always, he couldn’t.

Veronica was hard to ignore back then and even more so now, but for very different reasons.

The Veronica of Riverdale was a blast of technicolor in their Pleasantville world. She was a big fish in a small tank and because of that, Veronica would always garner attention from every guy and girl, man, woman and child she came in contact with. It was impossible not to gawk at her, love her or loathe her. Her very presence was an affront to the comfortability of life in a small town.

In New York, Veronica was one with the city, able to get lost in the sea of people. She didn’t stick out like a sore thumb the way she had in Riverdale. Here, she didn’t stick out at all and that was the beauty of it; that he could still find her awe inspiringly captivating in the midst of so much chaos.

When Jughead first saw her walking out of a coffee shop a few months ago, his jaw dropped. Yes, he knew on some level that Veronica had gone back to New York for school, but it wasn’t at the forefront of his mind or on his mind at all until a hot summer day brought Veronica Lodge back to his focus. 

It had been happenstance that that day he was with a few classmates from his ethics course that hung out in the area. They were headed to a coffee shop to gather under the guise of studying. He was listening intently to the story Jeffrey Scott was telling the rest of them about the email correspondence argument he’d had with one of their professors, when a door to a French coffee shop swung open and out walked Veronica Lodge.

Jughead was momentarily rendered motionless at the sight of her. She took no notice of him, stepping out of the shop and walking right into the swell of the pedestrians like it was nothing, like she knew what she was doing. She took a sip from her disposable cup and chatted away on a call, a famous Veronica Lodge smile on her face. She was wearing a colorful pair ridiculously high heels, a short skirt and a midriff baring top. She had a no doubt expensive handbag hanging from the crook of her elbow.

Jughead had to remind himself to walk. He caught up with his classmates, no longer caring about Jeffrey Scott’s retelling of his beef with Professor Whatshisname. Veronica was a few feet ahead of his group but it was easy to keep an eye plastered to her back with his height and her telltale jet black hair swinging behind her.

They came to a stop at their destination, but while everyone else went in, Jughead excused himself, telling the group that “something unexpected came up”, which it had if he was being technical.

He jogged a little through the crush of bodies, not apologizing for bumping into people, since no one apologized for that in NYC. When he caught up with Veronica again, she was standing at a curb, arms crossed, hip cocked, while some bespectacled guy leaning against a blacked out town car smiled down at her. The guy had the kind of face that could charm a rattlesnake so to say he was good looking was an understatement.

He had the bearing of someone who had the world at their fingertips and knew it. His dark hair was perfectly disheveled, his smile was perfectly imperfect and Veronica was smiling back and letting him take her hand and put her into the car before following her inside. The sleek mobile eased into New York traffic, taking Veronica with it.

Jughead stood stupidly rooted to that spot for longer than he should have. He didn’t know why seeing Veronica had been a spark to his system or why seeing her disappear with that guy was like a punch to the gut.

After that, he thought maybe he’d run into her again and actually speak, but as months passed, he thought less and less of that happening until he barely thought of it at all until she literally bumped into him today.

Now he wondered if the “Town Car Guy” as he’d been dubbed in Jughead’s mind was the guy she blew off lunch with to hang out with him? He wanted to ask her about the date, but it really wasn’t his business. He wasn’t sure why he cared anyway? For Archie, he thought. Though his red-head friend hadn’t been mentioned by either he or Veronica, Jughead convinced himself he was only interested in the guy Veronica was dating on behalf of Archie.

“I’ve decided,” Veronica announced, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I’m going to purchase this bag.”

The bag in question was a small rectangular handbag that looked pretty nondescript aside from the monogram logo on the front.

“For research purposes,” she added. “I already have two of these Monogramed St Laurent bags at home that are authentic. I’m taking this twenty-five-dollar-holler home to compare. When this is over, I will be able to spot a fake from a mile away.”

Jughead should have known that when Veronica said “research purposes” she really meant research. Silly him to think she was using the term as a front to her real desire to have a knock-off bag. “Why?” He asked, needing to know.

They approached the counter. “I have my reasons.”

Jughead allotted her this mystery, since he still hadn’t really explained his appearance in New York, why he was going by Forsythe, or even that he’d seen her months ago.

Veronica paid up and they exited the store.

“I didn’t ask,” Veronica said as they made their way back in the direction they came from. “Where were you headed earlier?”

“To a vinyl shop actually.” He watched her closely to see if she would turn up her nose at that. Her reaction was the opposite, she smiled.

“I had a feeling, but now I know that you really have turned into a New York hipster.”

He scoffed and guided her out of the way of someone, draping his hand across her back and shoulder like he’d done earlier. “What gave you that impression?” He asked trying to ignore how delicate Veronica felt and how their momentum would sometimes have her brush against his side.

“Oh, I don’t know... the clothes, the hair, the top secret, password protected pizza shop.”

He chuckled. “I actually live above the pizza shop.”

Veronica’s step hiccuped before she got back in stride with him. She looked at him with some concern. It made him self conscious.

“It’s not like that, not like Riverdale,” he said, vaguely alluding to his stint in the high school broom closet. “It’s a decent apartment. I could have lived on campus but I had already been staying above the shop since I got to New York. I wash dishes on the weekends and clean up the place to earn my keep.”

The concern ebbed away from her features, replaced with laughter. “I was thinking of how I lived at Pop’s just to get away from my dad. It’s strange that it feels like years ago, but it really wasn’t. Coming back to New York was the best decision I could have made for myself.”

Jughead silently agreed. “Are you on campus?”

“God, no! I’m with my mom. We’re in the same apartment we lived in before Hiram went to jail. Mom rented it out while we were in Riverdale, and after the divorce, she moved back.”

“So where am I walking you to?”

“Nowhere, I’m going with you to the vinyl shop. I’ll take a cab home after.”

The warmth that filled him at her words was so foreign that he almost dismissed it as heartburn. You couldn’t have paid him to think that he and Veronica would one day meet up in New York and spend a whole day together doing things like eating pizza, buying knock off designer, and going to vinyl shops.

Veronica eyed him. “That is alright, isn’t it?”

He grinned down at her upturned face. “Yeah, of course.”

Truth is, it was perfect.

:::

Jughead held the door as Veronica left the vinyl shop. She had Miles Davis’s ‘Kind of Blue’ tucked under her arm. He hadn’t scored anything new, but helping Veronica pick out her first vinyl had been worth the trip alone.

She had thumbed through copies of music, “ooh-ing and ahh-ing” at just about everything, because when it came to music, apparently Veronica loved all forms. Because of this, it had been hard to find the right record for her at first, but then he asked her what she’d want to listen to on a rainy day, cozily stuck in the house. She had quickly responded _Jazz_ and Jughead knew exactly what she needed.

“Now I just have to get a record player,” she said as they approached the curb to hail a taxi.

“I have an extra, well it’s actually my old one, but it works like brand new. You can have it.”

“Thanks, and how will I get this ‘old but works like brand new’ record player?” She held up her hand, waving a yellow cab to them.

The sun was quickly dipping along with the temperature. Jughead could see his breath fan out in front of him. A taxi pulled up quicker than he could respond.

“You have my number,” she said, tossing her head to get her wind blown locks out of her face.

He leaned in to open the door for her. “I do.” And suddenly a heavy feeling of dread settled in his stomach like lead at the thought of her entering the taxi.

“Jughead?”

“Mind if I tag along. Before you say no, it’s just been... What I’m trying to say is that today has been... Veronica, I-”

“Sure, no problem. I get it,” she agreed, saving him the embarrassment of stammering any more than he had.

Once they were in the grilled-onion smelling cab, Veronica gave her address to the driver.

After a few moments of quiet, Jughead had to speak. “I know I sounded like an idiot back there, but what I was trying to say is that today has been the best day I’ve had since I got here. It almost felt like a shame to let it end on a random corner with you getting into a cab and me watching you ride off.”

“I know,” she said, a dramatic lilt to her voice, “all of the tragic stories end that way.”

Was she making fun of him? The cab was too dark to see her features, which were obscured by shadows and street lights. When she didn’t follow up with anything else, he realized she was just thinking out loud and as her words sank in he felt.. wistful?

“We should meet up again. You took me on a tour of your New York, let me show you mine.”

Jughead swallowed thickly. He knew she didn’t mean it the way it came out, and his overactive imagination was twisting her words into something sordid, but he couldn't help the sudden wayward vision that her words invoked. He cleared his throat, glad that she couldn’t see his red face. “I’d like that.”

“Do you ever think about going back?” She asked quietly.

“Not really,” Jughead answered truthfully. “There’s nothing in Riverdale for me anymore.”

Veronica reached across the space between them and covered his larger hand with hers. She didn’t follow it up with a squeeze or a rub, she just let her cool palm lay upon his skin in understanding.

He knew they were close to Veronica’s when he looked out his window and saw historic looking homes with well manicured fronts and warm lights glowing from paned windows ofbrownstones. The cab slowed in front of a building and he asked the driver to wait a sec as he exited behind Veronica.

“Thank you for today, Jug,” she said turning to him.

“I’m glad I ran into you.” It was an understatement for how he really felt after spending the day with her. 

Veronica nodded and they stood together in a weird limbo of what to do next. Maybe it would have been better to let her ride off in the cab alone earlier, it would have saved them this awkward moment for sure.

Veronica reached for his arm, her fingers just grazed his jacked when a throat cleared decidedly behind them. Veronica spun on her heel as Jughead looked up.

“Henry?” Veronica questioned to the guy sitting on the steps of a brownstone. “How long have you been here?”

The guy in question, Henry, shrugged as he stood. “Not too long.” He was tall, about Jughead’s height and wore a dark overcoat and a patterned scarf against the night’s chill.

Veronica hastened to introduce the two. “Henry, this is...Forsythe, he’s a friend from high school in Riverdale. We ran into each other today. “J- uh, Forsythe, this is Henry, also a friend from high school, New York.”

Henry walked toward them, his hand extended. “Nice to meet you, Forsythe. Any friend of Ronnie’s is a friend of mine,” he greeted in a deep, cultured voice.

 _Ronnie_. Like Archie always called her. Jughead had always found the nickname endearing, in a grudging way. He never would have used it. It felt too personal and he and Veronica were anything but that.

“Likewise,” Jughead said.

They shook hands like gentlemen. Henry’s stare was a piercing hazel, and Jughead knew he was getting his measure taken. Whatever the other man found was shuttered behind the refraction of streetlight on his glasses lenses.

Veronica piped up. “Thanks again, Forsythe.” Her voice, was light, airy, dismissive.

She smiled her patented Veronica Lodge smile at him, showing too many teeth. It unnerved him how she so easily slipped behind the uptight, Park Avenue Princess mask after seemingly removing it for the whole day.

Maybe he was wrong in assuming that it was a mask. Maybe this was the real Veronica and he had made up the other to fit his narrative. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done something like that.

The strange inauthentic smile of Veronica and the looming presence of Henry, made Jughead feel like a fly at a picnic, so he took his leave as gracefully as he could manage. It wasn’t until the cab left the curb, and he glanced back and saw Henry drop his hand to the small of Veronica’s back while showing her to the stairs, that he realized he was in fact, Town Car Guy.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is an introduction that sets the stage for Jughead and Veronica to establish their friendship outside of Riverdale before introducing characters from Riverdale’s past. The original character isn’t so original. Henry is actually a character from a ficlet that I wrote of Veronica and the child of Chuck and Blair (Gossip Girl) and never posted. I adored the dynamic of the two in some future post modern Upper East Side. Henry won’t have a huge presence in this story but he plays a part.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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